Better Angels
by Atana-Mirtai
Summary: The last Episode of Farscape, John and Aeryn have choices to make and a few Ghost to Exercise


It was a long shot and he knew it. But heck, wasn't that what he was about?  
  
Wasn't it what he'd always been about? The long shots? It almost made him  
  
laugh. After all it was a long shot that had got him lost in this frelling  
  
part of the Universe in the first place.  
  
John Crichton took another step through the waist high sludge and cursed his  
  
intractable nature. He really would have to learn to do things practically  
  
some day. To think before he acted and lead with his head instead of his  
  
heart. If he didn't it would surely get him killed, although these days, he  
  
thought ruefully, that might not be such a bad idea.  
  
He was tired. And he was sore and he was wet. And half the universe was on  
  
his butt and he was in the middle of a war. A war he should be helping out  
  
with, duties he should be attending to but was he? No. He was schlepping  
  
through god knows what kind of foul smelling liquid chasing yet another long  
  
shot.  
  
He sighed and pulled himself out of the sludge and sat down on a tree stump  
  
to try and wipe the worst of it off of his legs. He shivered and thought of  
  
Aeryn. Wondered if she was still up there cursing him like a marine and  
  
figuring out how she'd punish him when he got back. He didn't think she'd  
  
leave him here. Or rather, he didn't think Pilot would let her, but that  
  
didn't mean he wouldn't be one grounded puppy when they saw each other  
  
again.  
  
He hoped to god this worked. At least while he was licking the wounds she  
  
was sure to inflict on him, there would be the satisfaction of that.  
  
She hadn't wanted to stop at Valdon, not even when he'd said it would probably only be for a few ahrns. To many bad memories for her there. Felip Necter, pain and the kiss of a ghost. It was in the past and they had a life here and now. Why risk it all on something even the Seeress couldn't guarantee?  
  
But he'd stood firm. They had to drop off Kralla, he'd told her. Valdon was  
  
her home. She'd been away for so long, and they owed her, they owed her  
  
everything and Aeryn knew that. How could they not grant her the one thing  
  
she asked of them?  
  
But she hadn't bought it. "Give the frelling old trelk a transport pod and  
  
send her on her way. You don't have to go with her." She'd raged. And then  
  
went on to say she owed the old woman nothing. That what they'd done they'd  
  
done on their own. Anything they owed, they owed to each other, and maybe  
  
just a little bit to Fate. But not to Kralla. Seeress or not, she'd helped  
  
only with the battle against the Scarens and the Charids, and only because  
  
they'd saved her from being another one of Scorpius experiments. She didn't  
  
really care about them. She'd NEVER helped with THEM, not really.  
  
And then she'd gone on to accuse him of lying to her again. Saying that it  
  
wasn't about Kralla and getting her home at all. That she'd heard the two  
  
of them talking on more than one occasion about Kralla's people, and their  
  
gifts and what they could do. But he knew as well as she did that many of the Seers on Valdon were frauds and she couldn't believe that he was wasting time with something so stupid, something that might not even exist.  
  
And he'd gotten mad and accused her of being selfish, and not even trying  
  
to understand why this was so important to him. It was such a little thing he wanted such a little thing to try even if it was a long shot. "Why was she really mad?" he'd raged. "Stop stalling and tell me what this is really about?" And for a microt her mouth had opened and he'd thought she might tell him. But then her face had gone pale and she'd thrown him out of their quarters. Wouldn't let him back in, not even to sleep. He'd had to bunk in the Farscape module, even though he'd apologized. And it was three solar days before she'd cooled down enough to discuss it again.  
  
And he knew her mind was set so he'd lied to her when she'd asked him if he'd given up on the idea. Kissed her trusting mouth and lied to her face. "You're right," he'd breathed as he ran his hands over her body. "It's stupid and dangerous and I need to let it go. But man's dreams die hard Aeryn, surely you can understand that. Put it up to human frailty and let's heal this breach."  
  
And she'd believed him, laughed and called him crazy, never suspecting he'd deceive her. But he'd worked her to exhaustion, packed a bag and snuck out while she was still asleep.  
  
That had been two days ago. And he'd told Pilot to wait for 5. But he  
  
still had a long way to go and so he got up off the stump and started  
  
walking again.  
  
  
  
Three ahrns and one small rock face climb later he was still more than 10 ahrns away from his destination so he decided to pack it in and make camp. He pitched the tent in a small copse of trees. He tried to light a fire, but  
  
it was too wet. So he set out some flares in an attempt to keep off any man  
  
eating critters. And settled back with Winnona on his lap to eat some food  
  
cubes and Gisoth cheese. He grimaced slightly at the stale taste. He would  
  
have to remember to replace the emergency rations when he got back to Moya.  
  
These must have been there since he first got lost in space.  
  
It had started innocently enough; he ruminated through a mouthful of bad  
  
food. He'd been in the center chamber, and Kralla had come in while he was  
  
eating some fried Sockrans Chi had left him with instructions he was to feed  
  
himself properly or face her wrath. And he hadn't been that hungry so he'd  
  
offered her some and struck up a conversation. Thought it might take his  
  
mind off the war, off the strategy and killing. Let him stop being a leader and just be a man.  
  
"Are all your people Psychic's?" He'd asked. After all what else do you say  
  
to a Seer?  
  
And she'd nodded around the Sockran in her mouth. "In some form or  
  
another."  
  
"Some form?"  
  
"Not all visions are the same. Some people see the past, other's like your  
  
Chiana, get a glimpse of the future. Some like me can see the truth within  
  
people's lies and other can see only what you want them to see. The gifts  
  
are as varied as the people who weld them."  
  
"Isn't it creepy? Being able to read people's minds?" He'd asked with a  
  
shiver.  
  
"I can't read minds."  
  
"Yes you can. You did yesterday with that Charid Captain we captured. His  
  
cerebrum was an open book as far as you were concerned. We know his  
  
divisions moves for the next half cycle thanks to you."  
  
Kralla shrugged. "He lied about what he knew. He lied so I saw his truths.  
  
If he hadn't lied, I'd have seen nothing. I can not read minds. Only the  
  
blessed ones can do that. That and the projecting. Or at least that's what  
  
people say."  
  
"Projecting, what's that?"  
  
Kralla looked a bit uncomfortable but continued when he passed her more  
  
Sockrans.  
  
"It is said they can take the thoughts of one, and project them into the mind of another."  
  
He frowned. "You mean like telepathy?"  
  
She tilted her head at him. " Unfamiliar."  
  
He waved her off. "Never mind. Can they do this with anyone anywhere? Or  
  
do you have to be in the next room"  
  
She nodded. "It is said that the strongest Projector once sent a message  
  
across half a galaxy. The effort killed her but the message got there. It  
  
was from our mother world before it was destroyed by the Tacherians. A  
  
message to some of our explorers not to come back home. They listened and  
  
settled on Valdon instead."  
  
His heart jumped and he remembered the idea forming in the recesses of his  
  
mind.  
  
"Half a galaxy really?"  
  
"That is what has been said. But those were of the pure blood and they are  
  
no longer. I don't know if any of the blessed ones on Valdon could do it,  
  
why do you ask?"  
  
And he'd thought about lying for a microt, but knew it was useless. She'd  
  
see right through him like she always did.'  
  
"Kralla, you know I'm not from here. That my planet is elsewhere."  
  
She nodded.  
  
"And you know I can't go back there because they are weak and there is to  
  
much at stake."  
  
She nodded again. "It was the right decision."  
  
He searched out her eyes. The two that were normal like his. "I have  
  
people there who I worry about. People there who worry about me. That I  
  
didn't get to say good-bye to. That go to bed every night thinking I'm dead  
  
and.."  
  
"Your father." She interrupted.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You wish to relieve him of the burden of his grief. To let him know that  
  
none of it was his fault. That you are alive and have purpose."  
  
"Yes, is it possible?"  
  
She studied him for a long time. Then she closed her eyes, all but the  
  
third, the one Aeryn never looked at because she said it reminded her of  
  
some creature that'd cheated her on Valdon. It opened and blazed blue.  
  
"All things are possible under the right circumstances."  
  
"What the frell does that mean?"  
  
"It means we shall see."  
  
And so he'd brought her to the city, and she'd spoken to some people. And  
  
then she'd handed him a map and turned to walk away.  
  
"Wait, what the frell am I supposed to do now?" He'd pulled at her arm  
  
desperate.  
  
"I've done what I can." She'd replied. "I've shown you the way. I can help  
  
you no further. This is part of your journey. Find the blessed ones and  
  
see what they have to say."  
  
"But can they help me. Can they reach my father?"  
  
"I know that they can. But whether they will take the risk or not is not  
  
for me to say. Go put your case before them John Crichton. And know that my  
  
prayers go with you on your way."  
  
And so he'd set out, on a whim and a prayer. On a long shot that was  
  
probably just going to lead to more disappointment. At the word of a crazy  
  
woman, on a planet full of nuts. But he'd come here anyway. Somehow he'd felt compelled to. Because he loved the old man and owed it to him to try.  
  
And he was so lost in his thoughts that he almost didn't hear her. When he  
  
put up Winnona she was about half a metra from his thigh.  
  
Her face was calm but her gray eyes were dangerous and he flinched involuntarily when she reached to her side. But all she did was pull out a  
  
hand lantern and set her backpack down across from him.  
  
"You didn't honestly think you were going off on your own without us?" Aeryn  
  
said coldly, and turned on the light.  
  
  
  
John supposed it shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. He lowered  
  
Winnona and looked at her with some trepidation.  
  
"Are you here to help me out or kill me?" He asked. He was only half  
  
kidding.  
  
She glared at him. "I'm here to watch your back."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because it's what I do. I thought it was what we did for each other, but  
  
that last little stunt you pulled has me seriously in doubt of that." She  
  
reached for the smaller pack and methodically began placing supplies on the  
  
ground.  
  
"Aeryn that's not fair."  
  
She paused and something dark and strange passed over her face.  
  
"Don't you talk to me about what's fair John Crichton. You don't have the  
  
right."  
  
John opened his mouth and then closed it again. He'd hurt her and she'd come anyway. He never meant to hurt her but it seems he always did. Just as she did him. And there was no use trying to make excuses for it, or figure out why the best of their intentions always caused the other pain. It only made things worse. Better to go with the better angels of your nature and leave the past alone.  
  
"Thank you." He said by way of apology.  
  
She raised an eyebrow at him as she unpacked some dried Benta noodles.  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For…. being who you are."  
  
She snorted and rummaged around for a water jug and portable heating ring.  
  
He tried another tact. "Can I have some of that?" He gestured at the soup  
  
she was making. "Moya's emergency packs leave something to be desired."  
  
"No. You may not." Her voice was clipped and precise "You brought them,  
  
you eat them."  
  
He sighed, "Aeryn."  
  
"No John," She looked up at him at last. "I'm still very angry at you, you  
  
know."  
  
He held her gaze. "I know."  
  
"You left."  
  
"I know that too."  
  
She shook her head at him. "No I don't think you do. See, you lied to me  
  
and then you made love to me, and then you left. I woke up and you'd just…  
  
gone. Do you have any idea how that made me feel?"  
  
"Aeryn I never meant.."  
  
"I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU MEANT!!" Her voice raised several notches and she  
  
threw the crumpled up noodle package at him. "You said we were… You and I  
  
are supposed to be…" She stopped and looked at the ground in obvious  
  
frustration.  
  
John looked at her and said nothing. It had taken her a long time to let  
  
him back into her life after the other him had died. For weakens she had  
  
been unable to look at him or speak to him past the contact necessary to  
  
plan the attack on Scorpius Command Carrier. And then when they'd destroyed  
  
the wormhole technology, when the Carrier had blown…  
  
He bit his lip a bit. He still didn't like to think about it. The long  
  
dark months without her. The not knowing if she were alive or dead. The  
  
awful things that had happened to them both before they'd found each other  
  
again.  
  
But they had found each other again. And he'd heeded his dead twins advice.  
  
Let her have space, given her time. He'd had to. So much had happened  
  
they'd both changed so much. He'd wondered on more than one occasion if what  
  
they'd shared once was worth the fight. But love is an involuntary reflex  
  
and he was more susceptible than most. So he'd waited, taking each small  
  
concession she'd given him like it was some precious gift. A smile here, a  
  
touch there, a slow diminishing of the pain in her eyes. And then there had  
  
been that night three weakens ago when he'd come back from patrol to find  
  
she'd moved all her things into his quarters. She hadn't asked, in fact she  
  
hadn't said anything at all; she'd just moved them in. And he hadn't  
  
questioned it. Just shifted his chess set to make room for her weapons and  
  
let her make the first move when she'd climbed into bed.  
  
And he'd never asked her what it meant her coming back to him like that.  
  
Never asked her if things were as good as they had been with the other John. Never asked her if she loved him for him, or because she felt she had to. Never asked her if they were … permanent..  
  
And though he tried to deny it, the not knowing was killing him.  
  
So he sat there and waited for her to finish her sentence. He sat there and  
  
listened to the silence and the slight rustling of the trees.  
  
"You said we were a family." She whispered at last.  
  
His heart broke. "Oh baby we are."  
  
She looked up and searched his face in the half-light of the flares.  
  
" Are we really? Sometimes I wonder."  
  
"Aeryn how can you wonder.." He began and then stopped when he heard a  
  
muffled sound from nearby.  
  
"Did you hear that?"  
  
"What?"  
  
He drew Winnona as he heard it again. A sort of muffled mewl in the  
  
vicinity of her big pack.  
  
"That."  
  
"Put the gun down John."  
  
"But.."  
  
"Put it down." Aeryn began tugging at the strings of the large square like  
  
pack.  
  
John regarded her quizzically for a few microts and then understanding hit  
  
him.  
  
"Oh Aeryn you didn't!"  
  
"We're a family." She said firmly as she pulled the squirming infant out and  
  
onto her lap.  
  
"And families stick together. That's what you said."  
  
  
  
Jerryn Crichton Sun was just over a cycle old and small for his age. He had his mothers black hair and serious continence and his genetic fathers big blue eyes. He wasn't prone to crying much and quieted as soon as Aeryn settled him on her knee.  
  
John regarded the little boy with something akin to shock.  
  
"I can't believe you brought him."  
  
Aeryn reached down into the container in which she was heating the Benta  
  
noodles and pulled some out. She mashed them into a paste and began  
  
feeding Jerryn small bites.  
  
"Leaving him wasn't an option."  
  
"Aeryn.."  
  
She looked up at him coldly. "One of us with him at all times John. That's  
  
what we agreed."  
  
He closed his eyes and sighed. "I know that's what we agreed Aeryn, but I  
  
didn't think the deal included trudging him through a cold bayou for…" he  
  
paused and his eyes flew open again. "How long have you been following me  
  
anyway?"  
  
"A little more than a day."  
  
He shook his head in awe. "And you caught up with me already."  
  
She shrugged and reached back into her supply pack for a package of Lac- tait  
  
and a bottle. "I didn't stop to rest or sleep for very long."  
  
"You see, that's what I mean Aeryn, you can't just take a baby out and send  
  
him on a forced march like a soldier, I mean you had him in a field pack for  
  
Christsake it's a wonder he didn't suffocate."  
  
Aeryn's face settled into the hard-edged blankness it took on when she was  
  
being obstinate. She didn't scream, or argue she merely reiterated.  
  
"One of us with him at all times, that's what we said."  
  
John had just opened his mouth to say that their agreement regarding  
  
babysitting Jerryn wasn't at issue when the little boy cut him off.  
  
"Da?" he said quizzically flinging his bottle away with one hand and  
  
reaching out for John with the other.  
  
John reached out automatically and pulled Jerryn into his lap. He nuzzled at  
  
the soft black head for a few microts and let the warm baby smell calm his  
  
frazzled nerves.  
  
Even though he knew the child belonged to a man almost two cycles gone, he'd  
  
never thought of the boy as anything less than his. He'd wondered in the  
  
begining, when he'd first found out about Aeryn's pregnancy how he would  
  
react when he came face to face with the undeniable proof of her love for  
  
the other him. But he'd put those fears aside in his desperation over  
  
losing her. And then, when he'd found her again and the baby had been lost,  
  
he put them aside in the frantic search to find him again.  
  
But it turned out that all his fears had been in vain. One look. It had  
  
taken only one look at those solemn blue eyes and the miniature Crichton  
  
chin and he'd fallen hopelessly in love. His life began and ended with the  
  
small bundle in his arms and his only regret oddly enough, was that the  
  
other had died too soon to know the joy he'd brought into being.  
  
Aeryn had fostered the boy out after his birth and before John had found her  
  
again. Half afraid that someone might guess his lineage and turn him over  
  
to either the Scarens or the Peacekeepers for experimentation and half  
  
afraid that she'd fail as a mother. Then the unthinkable had happened and  
  
she'd lost contact with the family when her contact with them was killed.  
  
They hadn't known if they'd ever see the little boy again. Aeryn had been  
  
wracked with guilt and John with the fear he'd lost another child to space  
  
when the fates had decided to be kind for change. The fates and some highly  
  
paid mercenaries. They'd tracked him down just after he'd turned six months  
  
old and Aeryn was still jumpy about letting him out of their sight.  
  
She'd made him agree that one of them would be near the boy at all times.  
  
Only one of them on Patrol, or in strategy sessions or on a mission at a  
  
time. The other to remain on Moya with Jerryn. She wouldn't even let  
  
Chiana or Rygel take the boy farther than a few tiers away. He wasn't going  
  
to be separated from them ever again. They were going to protect him  
  
correctly this time.  
  
So it meant something John supposed, that she'd risked Jerryn, risked them  
  
both, to come down here after him.  
  
"Aeryn" He started again, his tone softer this time. "Baby it's not that  
  
I'm not glad to see you. To see you both. Or that I don't appreciate the  
  
obsession you seem to have with saving my butt. But you really shouldn't  
  
have taken the risk. Like I said loading Jer into a backpack and bringing  
  
him here was a bit.."  
  
"What?" Aeryn cut in her voice like steel, "I know you aren't going to say  
  
irresponsible. Not after what you've just put us through."  
  
"I was going to say…. Excessive."  
  
She blinked at him. "Oh. Maybe it was. I don't know. I just knew I  
  
couldn't take waiting while you were down here getting into Heva knows what  
  
by yourself. No wait." Aeryn held up a hand to ward off John's rebuttal.  
  
"I'm new at this. This, having to worry about people. Even when I was  
  
with..." She paused. "Even when I was on Talyn, it was just him and me  
  
really. I didn't consider what Crais thought much, or Rygel or Stark.  
  
Peacekeepers teaches you to be selfish. To look out for yourself. And now  
  
I have you both. And I don't know how much is too much. I don't know how  
  
much is not enough. I just knew that you lied to me, and then you were  
  
gone. And it felt like ……" She shrugged and looked down at the ground. "It  
  
felt like before. He'd gone off too. Gone off by himself and when he came  
  
back he was a dead man. I just…" She trailed off.  
  
John flinched.  
  
"I'm sorry. I was wrong for that."  
  
She looked down at the ground. "Yes you were."  
  
They sat there in silence for a bit until John noticed that his son had  
  
fallen asleep.  
  
"Aeryn you got a blanket or something? He's out."  
  
"I've got better than that."  
  
"What?"  
  
She reached beside her to the pack that she'd taken Jerryn out of earlier  
  
and pushed it forward so that John could get a good look at it.  
  
"This."  
  
In the brighter light of the flares John could see that what he'd originally thought of as a large square field pack was actually a sort of baby carrier. It was the size of a standard equipment pack, but was made of Teridium alloy and the interior was padded with thermal insulating gel packs. It had a shelf like protrusion for the child to sit on and harness straps to secure him in. The top was made to latch down several inches above an infant's head with a large square mesh covered opening at face level to allow for sight and ventilation. Straps were provided to allow the carrier to wear the contraption like a backpack with a waist belt, or down by your side with a handle across the top. A few dangling toys were even attached below the view opening for the child's amusement while traveling.  
  
  
  
"Where the frell did you get this?" John asked as he regarded the carrier  
  
with something akin to awe. It crossed his mind briefly that his sister  
  
Beth would have killed for one of these things when her Amanda was born.  
  
"Chiana picked it up for me when we stopped at that commerce station on Bedi  
  
Prime."  
  
"You mean the one where we made the deal for the Yenathian Warheads?"  
  
She nodded. "She came up to me after we'd gotten back to Moya and gave it  
  
to me. Said she thought it would be useful. Aparently since Bedi is very  
  
mountainous, the inhabitants use them all the time."  
  
"I threw it in the closet. I mean what use would I have for such a thing  
  
really. We're in the middle of a war; happy family outings aren't exactly  
  
on the agenda. But when I got up and you'd gone, it immediately came to  
  
mind. It's quite a clever thing really. Lightweight, strong, waterproof,  
  
and it's even supposed to float though I haven't tested that feature yet.  
  
If we'd had them in Peackeepers, they could have sent the nursery Sergeants  
  
on long range recon with them and saved a ton of manpower."  
  
"It's pretty amazing."  
  
"It's proved very useful."  
  
Aeryn lay the carrier flat on the ground, flipped up the little seat and settled the sleeping Jerryn inside. She covered him with a blanket and then closed the top so that the various bugs wouldn't be able to bite him.  
  
"There. If it goes anything like last night, he should be down for the next several ahrns. You take the first watch."  
  
"Aeryn, I think we need too…"  
  
She cut him off coldly. "It'll have to wait John. I've been trudging through muck and sludge and up and down mountains for practically 29 ahrns straight. I'm cold and I'm tired and badly in need of some rest. Since it's because of you that I'm in this forsaken place in the first place the least you can do is take first watch and let me go to bed."  
  
John opened his mouth, and then closed it again.  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Wake me in 5 ahrns."  
  
*********************************  
  
Aeryn didn't know why she'd done it at first. It had just seemed like the thing to do at the time. She'd come back off a recon mission on Galfrey, gone back to her quarters, sat down..... and suddenly decided she didn't want to be there any more. They didn't fit, they seemed too.... sterile, open, something. She'd gone wandering, stopped by his quarters and realized she'd needed ... more.  
  
And at first she'd denied what that meant. Went from tier to tier and stared at open cells, trying them on for size and telling herself that they weren't all identical. Lied to herself and said that his space was bigger because it was Hammond side. She even went so far as to haul a few things around and set them up in a dusty choice on tier 14 just to see how they fit.  
  
But after each of her travels she always came back to his cell, his space.  
  
Finally, she'd palmed open the door and gone inside. Stood in the center and looked around. It was strange, she remembered musing, to be surrounded by his things without the distraction of his physical presence. It was strange what one noticed, when not focusing on a movement, a look, a sound. This thing remembered from Talyn, that thing acquired while she had been gone, The new Chackan oil cartridges she'd bought him on Bessa, and given him like some silly recruit, in payment last weaken for fixing her holster.  
  
She remembered his lopsided grin as he'd taken the cartridges from her hand, the way his fingers had lingered against her palm just a few microts longer than necessary. She remembered how the touch had caused her inner thighs to tense and the sound of his voice thanking her gently had sent heat swirling in the depths of her belly.  
  
She remembered walking away like none of it mattered.  
  
She'd turned herself in circles, trying to see what drew her to this place, why she kept coming back, in spite of herself. And it had hit her all of a sudden that it was an apex. For her, for him, for what they had once meant to each other. She had memories of this man in this place. Memories that belonged to them alone. Memories she didn't have to share with the one that had been lost. But there were things there that had been her John's as well. The worn notebook on the table, the coat hung on the peg. A couple of small statues he'd picked up on Tarsus and for whatever reason this Crichton had kept. It had started for all of them there; this strange animal called love. It had started and grown right here in this room. This place somehow encompassed it all. This place made the remembering worth while.  
  
So she'd left Jerryn with Chiana and strict instructions that no one should disturb her for at least two ahrns. And then she'd packed up her few belonging and shuffled them among his things. Shoved him aside and made room for herself. She hadn't asked, she'd just waited until he'd gone out of patrol and done it. Done it and tried not to think what it meant.  
  
To his credit, he hadn't pestered her with questions when he'd gotten back. Just paused for microt in the hall at the sight of her seated on his bunk cleaning her pulse pistol in her workout clothes. And then he'd merely moved his chess set to make more room for her weapons and asked her what she'd done with Jerryn.  
  
"His current place is so far away. Don't you think I..we..you..should move it?" He'd said as he'd put Winnona away and kept his back to her and his voice steady in hopes she wouldn't notice the shaking of his hands.  
  
She had.  
  
"Already done," she'd replied calmly "I've got him settled down in the store room next door. It's small but well ventilated and secure, and there won't be far to go if he needs anything in the night."  
  
He'd dropped his holster at that.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
And she'd made no move to help him retrieve it. Because if she had he might have seen how her hands clenched white and bloodless in her lap. Might have heard how the blood was pounding through her veins, in her temples. Might have smelled her fear. Fear of what he might say, what he might do. Fear that if he touched her she might just explode. Fear that this all was some dreadful mistake.  
  
But he'd merely retrieved his hostler and said nonchalantly that he was going for a shower.  
  
And she'd finished cleaning her gun, and she'd gone and fed the baby, and she'd rearranged her boots, and she'd made a quick run to the maintenance bay to hunt up some expanders to make more room in the closet and some pegs to hang her tools on. And she'd seriously considered not going back.  
  
But she had.  
  
She'd stood outside the door and watched him lying there. On his side, faced away from her with one hand supporting the pillow underneath his head. And then she'd stood inside the room, breathing softly, standing still. But he never moved. Not even when she undressed and pulled back the covers and climbed into bed.  
  
And she'd kept the space between them, even though she knew he was awake. Kept the space between them and waited. Lay there on her back and waited for him to touch her the way he had in that hotel room on the false Earth so long ago. Waited for him to pull her close and place his lips against her ear and whisper the words he knew would make her turn and give him what they both wanted. She waited.  
  
But he never moved.  
  
And it became too much, the smell of him all around her, the sound of his breathing slightly faster than normal, the shape of his body in the darkness. It brought out too much in her made her remember too much. Made her ...feel.  
  
So she'd moved to him at last. Erased the space between them. Put her mouth against that sweet spot just below his ear. Slid the fingers of her left hand along his side, across his waist. And down.  
  
And his breath caught and his body hitched and when he turned she'd fused her mouth to his. But the taste of him broke something in her and she'd rolled hard, braced him there beneath her and cried. And he pulled her to him, his face in her hair, his voice gentle, asking if she were sure, if she were certain, holding himself still until she nodded her assent into the hollow of his neck. Then his hands and his mouth took over, searching, rediscovering, and striping her of thought. And when at last her hips lifted and her body took him in made them one, found that rhythm both new and yet so achingly familiar she let them both go. The man he had been before a criminal had twinned him and the man who had died when duty had called. And as her head flung back and her body clenched around him, she cried out, for herself and for all that had been lost.  
  
And when she'd collapsed afterwards, he'd held her shuddering form against his chest, kissed her closed eyes and whispered her name. But he hadn't gone over when she'd reached her release and after a microt he'd rolled them still joined and begun moving again. And that's when she saw it. Saw how he'd been changed, this man she had chosen twice. Saw in his eyes what the past cycle had done to him. Saw all the pain and the grief, and the loneliness and the doubt. And her heart broke for him, and she wanted to take it all in draw it all out of him and replace it with something good and clean. So she arched herself up and wrapped herself around him, urged him faster and harder, begged him for more.  
  
"I love you," she whispered, because she could finally say it. Because he needed to know it. Because they'd been through so much.  
  
" I love you," she said and smiled as his eyes went midnight, as his body spasmed, and he cried out and let himself go.  
  
She smiled. And went over sobbing his name.  
  
*************************************************  
  
Aeryn Sun crouched and fiddled briefly with her son's hair. It had been half an ahrn since his last bottle and two ahrns since she'd taken over the watch. The night was dark and quiet, and the only sounds she could hear were the heavy breathing of a very sleeping Jerryn and the lighter breathing of a not so sleeping John.  
  
She sighed, flipped the lid closed on Jerryn's carrier, and stood up to walk the camp perimeter again, deliberately not sparing a glance at still figure on her left.  
  
She wished he'd get on with it. The talking. Knew it was killing him to lie so quiet and still pretending to be sleeping when they both knew he was not.  
  
But she'd still been angry enough to put him off when he'd first tried to broach the subject of his unplanned departure and she'd cut him off, told him she was tired and stalked off to bed.  
  
And because he was a man who knew his woman's temperament he had simply shut up and let her.  
  
But now it was eating at her too. The silence between them the uncomfortable distance where camaraderie had so recently lived. She loved him, and he scared her and she didn't like not knowing what was going on in his head.  
  
And so because she was a woman who knew her man's mind she settled herself on a fallen log near him. Kept her eyes on the perimeter…. And waited.  
  
("5,4,3,2,1.")  
  
"Penny for your thoughts."  
  
She almost smiled.  
  
"I think they're worth more than that."  
  
She felt him shift to squat next to her on the log.  
  
"You're right, if they're yours they're priceless."  
  
She frowned and shook her head. "No flattery John, it's way to late for that."  
  
"Fair enough."  
  
He fell silent again and Aeryn waited.  
  
"You're not making this easy for me Aeryn."  
  
She turned to face him at last. "Do I ever?"  
  
It was his turn to almost smile. "No."  
  
"Then get on with it."  
  
He nodded. "Look, I'm not going to say that I shouldn't have handled things differently. Shouldn't have just left you like that, in the middle of the night with no word. It was wrong, especially in view of all that's happened these past couple cycles. And I am truly sorry."  
  
She softened a bit despite herself. "I know."  
  
John reached out and let the fingers of one hand slide a few stray strands of her hair behind one ear. She allowed the touch for a microt and then twitched away. She wasn't letting him off that easy.  
  
But he wouldn't be put off and cupped her chin gently in the palm of his hand. "But I'm not going to apologize for talking with Kralla, or for coming here or for trying to do anything that will let me get in touch with my father. And I want you to… no check that I NEED you to try to understand why this is so important to me."  
  
She caught his wrist in her hand and pushed it away. " I do understand."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I do understand but it's not helping any."  
  
John sat back on his heels and it occurred to Aeryn briefly that his confused expression looked remarkably like Jerryn's.  
  
"I think you'd better explain."  
  
She stared at him. It was difficult to know where to begin. How to make him know what she meant. She wasn't like him. Peacekeepers were bred for action not thought. The words, when they bothered to come at all, came awkward and hard, and they never sounded at all the way they did in her head.  
  
But she needed him to know. So she tried.  
  
"I only ever wanted to be in once place. Do one thing. Have one purpose. It mattered. It was enough."  
  
"But you... you've only ever wanted to be someplace other than where you were. It's how you ended up here in the first place. You're always.. moving, searching. You stop one thing and immediately start another. You want... more.. from everything and everyone. And it's never enough. And I'm..." She stopped and pounded a fist against her thigh certain it was coming out wrong.  
  
"You're what?" He said it softly, almost singing. The same voice he used with Jerryn when he was hurt or frightened.  
  
She turned away, got up, walked a few paces and looked up at the stars. Let the solid constancy of them bring her strength.  
  
"I just don't know if we are enough."  
  
She heard his breath catch and waved him away before he could get up.  
  
"No, don't tell me you love me. This isn't about love. And don't tell me we can't leave each other. We both know we can. And I know you say you made this choice a long time ago. But you couldn't see it then. It wasn't right there in front of you. And I can't be part of that world John. I don't want to be part of that world. And you.. you obviously do. If not now then later, and I just don't know... if we are enough."  
  
"Come here."  
  
She shook her head, "I'm not looking for reassurances here John. It's not about that. I just wanted you to understand."  
  
"Come here anyway."  
  
She turned and the look on his face made her want to step back. It frightened her sometimes, the depth of his emotions. But she took his hand when it was offered, let him draw her in and settle her on his lap.  
  
"Look at me," he said quietly and when she didn't framed her face in both of his hands.  
  
"You're not enough."  
  
She pulled back in surprise, but he held her face firmly, blue eyes boring into hers until she could see nothing else.  
  
"You're everything."  
  
"John.."  
  
"No. Let me finish."  
  
"You're right. I joined the space program because I got bored with the ground; I started Farscape because I got bored with the sky. I needed more, and so I searched. And then I came here, and I didn't search because I was bored, I searched because I wanted to get back to where I thought I belonged, where I thought things made sense. Where up was up and dead really meant dead and my family and friends were waiting. Where things were simple and human. Where I.... fit."  
  
"And after we destroyed the Command Carrier and Scorpy wasn't on our ass I thought I might finally be able to do that."  
  
His paused and his face fell and again he looked like Jerryn.  
  
"And it was Kralla who helped me see, that that couldn't be. I could never go back."  
  
And he looked so miserable that Aeryn felt compassion stir a little in her gut. She took his hands and placed them around her waist and placed her forehead against his.  
  
"I know."  
  
"No. I don't think you do."  
  
"Yes I do. Earth is too weak, you felt it too dangerous. And there was... me, and ....Jerryn, and you knew we wouldn't fit. You chose. It was hard. I know. But you did what you had to."  
  
"No Aeryn. That's not it."  
  
She pulled back a little in surprise.  
  
"It wasn't just Jerryn, it wasn't just you. It wasn't just the danger from Scorpy and crew. It wasn't just you that you wouldn't fit there Aeryn. It's me."  
  
"The man I was when I left Earth is gone. This place" he gestured to encompass her whole world and all the beings in it, "killed him. And the man I am now.." He shrugged. "I've seen to much, done to much, I've... killed. I couldn't go back there, not to stay. Maybe once I could, but not now. It's to late for that."  
  
"And it makes me sad. Because there's so much there I love. Because my father will never know his Grandson. Because, there are so many people and things that I'm longing to see. That I wish you could see. But I give it up freely and without reservation. Because... You're more than enough."  
  
And something caught in her throat, and stumbled her heart, but she asked him anyway.  
  
"So this is goodbye?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"For good."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And you wouldn't.."  
  
"Go back? Not now and never for good. This is my home. Here, with you and Jerryn. We'll see this war through, and then when it's safe....we'll..."  
  
"What?"  
  
He shrugged slightly and buried his head between her breasts. " I don't know... something...But I'll do it with you."  
  
And she placed cheek on his head and cried a little, because she knew what saying that had cost him. What she cost him. Had and always would. It was a difficult thing to live contrary to your nature. She knew. It was a fight she dealt with every day. But she did it for him, for them, and what they had built together. And now she knew that he would too."  
  
And she wanted to tell him how much it meant. His sacrifice. His concession to live in her world. He would always be a stranger in a strange land no matter how long he stayed. And there would always be the longing for what had been lost. For both of them. But she didn't know how, and she wasn't sure the words would mean anything anyway. So she pulled his head back and showed him.  
  
"Can you keep quiet?"  
  
His brow furrowed, "Why?"  
  
She leaned in and kissed him. Deep and slow, mapping the recesses of his mouth with her tongue until he pulled back, gasping and a little bit flushed.  
  
He stole a look at the small bundle on the ground to their right.  
  
"Jerryn."  
  
She pulled his face around and smiled against his lips, "If we're quiet he'll sleep."  
  
And he laughed then, a little laugh that turned into a groan as she shifted against him.  
  
"I love you, you know." He said as he pulled at her vest.  
  
"I know. And John..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're everything too."  
  
  
  
"Dye, dye, dye, dye," Plink.  
  
"Dye, dye, dye, dye," Plink.  
  
The singsongy voice cut through John's dreams and shuffled him towards consciousness up with a groan. He stretched, and started to sit up only to find that Aeryn was still sprawled across his chest. He lay back down and flung and arm across his eyes to filter out the days brightness when all of a sudden there it came again.  
  
"Dye, dye, dye, dye," Plink. Something hit him in the head. No way he could ignore that, he thought ruefully and gently shifted the still sleeping Aeryn so he could get up.  
  
When he did he was greeted by the sight of his smiling son. Covered in mud, chewing a leaf and throwing stones at him.  
  
"Frell." Said John.  
  
"Da." Replied Jerryn and immediately began to crawl towards his father.  
  
"That's it sport." John whispered encouragingly as he frantically searched the depths of the sleeping bag with one hand for his underwear and pants. "Come over here and don't put anything else in your mouth."  
  
As though on cue the little boy stopped crawling, pulled himself into a sitting position grabbed a handful of mud and promptly shoved it in his mouth.  
  
John winced and searched faster. "Stay there." He whispered, casting a more than slightly nervous glance at the woman beside him. "Don't move."  
  
Jerryn cut him a disapproving glance, looking for all the world like he wished his Dada would make up his mind about what he wanted him to do. Fortunately for John the mud tasted particularly good in that spot and the little boy stayed still.  
  
Finding his clothes at last John wriggled out of the sleeping bag and scooped Jerryn up. He was vaguely surprised Aeryn hadn't awakened as well she usually was very attuned to noises in general and Jerryn in particular. But then again, he thought with a small smile. After the session they'd had last night it wasn't surprising she was a little more sluggish than usual.  
  
"Come on Sport." He chuckled as the now squirming infant proceeded to smear mud all over his chest. "Let's get you cleaned up before Momma wakes up and razzes both our butts." He grabbed the baby carrier in one hand, absently tucked Winonna into the back of his waistband and gently tiptoed off in search of a stream.  
  
He desperately hoped he could get the little boy shipshape before Aeryn woke up. Not only would she be angry that Jerryn was wearing mud and eating leaves, but she'd be desperately angry that she'd forgotten to latch the carrier after his final feeding last night.  
  
He sighed; it's not that Aeryn wasn't a good mother she was just... awkward about some things. Jerryn had been given back to them just over a quarter cycle ago and adjusting to him and his schedule was still quite a new thing for her. And she'd had no training, no example of how to be a mother. She tried she really did, but occasionally she let him cry for too long, or let a diaper sit unchanged, or forgot how much lac-tait went in the bottle for the proper formula mix. But John never chastised her much. All new mothers made mistakes, and her love for boy was evident.  
  
A quarter ahrn hike to the west netted them the water they needed. John stuck a finger in the stream and grimaced. "Sorry kiddo, this is gonna be cold." He stripped the little boy of his coverall and used the dirty clothes to wipe the worst of the mud from his body.  
  
Jerryn was not amused. He squealed and screamed as John cleaned and changed him and got him into some new clothes.  
  
"Well dude, you got your momma's voice for sure," John thought ruefully as he mixed up a bottle. One look at the red scrunched up face made him forgo the warming procedure, find a rock to sit on and plug the bottle into the howling open orifice. Jerryn shut up with a gulp and began to suck lustfully, regarding his father with mistrustful blue eyes.  
  
"Oh stop looking like a martyr." John scowled. "It's not every kid that gets to go on an adventure like this one."  
  
Jerryn merely blinked.  
  
"You don't know how lucky you are."  
  
Jerryn reached up and attempted to tear his dad's lip off.  
  
"Uummph, stop that."  
  
Jerryn smiled around the bottle and twisted harder.  
  
It was the smile that undid him. John started to laugh. He leaned over and kissed the small forehead gently.  
  
"God I love you."  
  
It made him sad sometimes when he looked at the boy. Sad that his father would never know him. Jack Crichton never said it, but he was tired of Granddaughters. His girls had given him 5 between them and although he loved them to death and doted on them relentlessly, like any old man he feared for the Chrichten name. "I'm counting on you son," he often told John half jokingly, "To carry on the name. Make sure Crichton doesn't die off the Earth."  
  
"Oh dad," he thought. "It may be off Earth, but it's alive in the stars. And in a way you never imagined."  
  
"You'd like your Grandfather, Jer" he said absently. "He's strong like your mom." He laughed. "Hard like her too. I think they would have liked each other once they let their guards down. And my God... how he would have loved you."  
  
"I can see him now, buying you little toy airplanes, taking you down to the Officers lounge at Canaveral, showing you off to the boys. Taking you... on fishing trips and camping. Showing you how to cheat at cards." John's voice caught a little and he nuzzled his head against Jerryn's head again. "All the things he did with me."  
  
"And Beth and Sally, they would have loved you too. Doted on you like they used to on me. Only boy in the family and the baby at that. Oh the Christmas dinners and birthday parties they would have thrown for you. You would have had to watch out you didn't get fat."  
  
"And I think that's what hurts the most about this thing we're doing here kiddo. I feel like I'm cheating you. Denying you the happy life I had. Full of family and friends and summers in Florida. I wonder if you'll grow up and hate me for that?"  
  
Jerryn having had enough breakfast for the time being pitched his bottle away and squirmed into a sitting position. He looked around at the trees and the water. He frowned, what he was searching for evidently wasn't there.  
  
"Chi?" He inquired looking up at John.  
  
"Auntie Chi's not here."  
  
"Chi?" he inquired again, a bit louder this time.  
  
"I told you honey, Auntie Chi's not here. She's back up on Moya, but we'll see her soon."  
  
"Dooh?"  
  
"Uncle D'argo's not here either."  
  
Jerryn digested this for a microt and then tried again.  
  
"Google?"  
  
"Nope sport, ditto for Rygel, he's..." And John paused. They were a family he'd told Aeryn, and perhaps upon reflection that meant more than the three of them. Chiana and D'Argo doted on the boy like he was theirs. Chi was always stealing him and D'argo had spent long nights playing him to sleep with his Shilquin when the teething pain was particularly bad. No mean feat since he'd been promoted to Captain of a sizable Luxan force and his time was especially precious. John had told him it wasn't necessary, but D'argo had insisted. "I missed out on Jothee's childhood," he'd said as sorrow for his dead son passed over his face, "let me make it up here."  
  
Neri was constantly bringing small gifts when meeting with the Nabari Resistance were necessary, and Jool despite her supposed aversion to infants could often be found at bedtime reading him some story or another.  
  
And Rygel may be Dominar again, having reclaimed his throne from Byshan, but his duties as General of the Hynerian rebel forces kept him on Moya a lot. It was felt that he could marshal his forces better there than on planet, a moving target not being so easily caught.  
  
John smiled. For all the Hynerian complained about Jerryn's smells and secretions and for all he went on about germs and diseases, he had been caught on more than one occasion zooming him around on his throne sled or attempting to teach him the finer points of Tadek.  
  
Their lives would never be easy, and growing up in the middle of a war that could claim one or both parents was not the ideal place for any child to be. But lots of human children had contended with worse, and they were a family. An eclectic, odd sort of group, but a family indeed.  
  
Jerryn, with the typical short attention span of children had tired of sitting still and none of his usual playmates in sight was anxious to leave.  
  
"Buh-bye" he said clasping one chubby hand open and closed.  
  
"You wanna go bye-bye kiddo?"  
  
"Buh-bye, mama."  
  
"You wanna go bye-bye and find momma?" John said with a smile even though he suspected Jerryn was just babbling. "I think we can arrange that."  
  
He stood up and threw the boy high in the air until he giggled with delight. Then the two of them headed back to camp.  
  
  
  
It was when she saw the silly grin on his face that Aeryn decided not to drop the older of the two Crichton men right where he stood. That and the fact that he was actually carrying her child and he appeared to be undamaged.  
  
Still she didn't lower her pulse pistol immediately when they came stumbling back into the campsite, John singing some nonsensical song and Jerryn squealing along with him. She let John's eyes widen in shock first.  
  
"How many more times," She asked in a slow patient voice, "on a potentially hostile planet are you going to go wandering off with my child and not tell me where you're going?"  
  
"None." John replied instantaneously.  
  
"Right answer" She replied dryly. "I guess that means you don't die today." She re holstered her gun. "Now where the frell have you been?"  
  
"Morning constitutional darlin' men have stuff to do you know."  
  
Aeryn regarded the two innocent faces with the skepticism of having been lied to one to many times.  
  
"He's been fed?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"And changed?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
She came nearer and took a closer look.  
  
"He's awfully clean, don't tell me you gave him a bath?"  
  
Jerryn looked fearfully up at his dad and John squirmed. "Well yeah, you see you've had him wandering around for what, two days now practically non- stop. He was getting a bit... gamy their Aeryn."  
  
Aeryn stared at the two pairs of identical eyes that stared blankly back at her and decided that since they both seemed healthy and sound, whatever they were lying to her about couldn't be that important. She sighed inwardly and let the matter go with an indulgent shake of her head.  
  
"We'd better get a move on, it's late enough as it is."  
  
John nodded all business now. According to the directions I got we need to head due west for about another 5 ahrns. The Bayou will end and then we'll cross some flatlands and after that we should come to some caves.  
  
"And then?"  
  
He shrugged, "And then we wait. Someone should find US is my understanding."  
  
"Right. Lets get a move on."  
  
  
  
He was just launching into Goldilocks when Aeryn sucker punched him.  
  
"All right," she said stopping and turning so abruptly that he had to rock up on his tiptoes to keep from crashing into her. "Why is it O.K. when you do it and not when I do it.?"  
  
"What are you talking about?" He asked knowing before the words completely left his mouth that he was going to regret it.  
  
"The stories, why is it your stories are O.K. and mine aren't."  
  
John sighed. "Babe, we've been through this before. Your stories are scary."  
  
"Jerryn doesn't seem to think so."  
  
"I'm not sure Jerryn can understand them yet. But if he could he'd be scared."  
  
"And why's that?"  
  
"Well, take last weaken for instance. I come in the room and you are telling him about the battle of Mintaka III. And you're talking about how our erstwhile enemy Durka single-handedly gutted 15 Charrid raiders and staked their rotting corpses up on a Jinka pole as a warring for all the others. "  
  
"So?"  
  
He stared at her. "So? So it's gory and Durka tried to kill us on more than one occasion!"  
  
Aeryn shrugged. "I was fair, I told him that Durka went Crazy and Rygel had HIS head put on a Jinka pole in the end."  
  
"Aeryn those aren't the sort of stories you tell to children."  
  
"They're the sort of stories I was told as a child, they didn't do me any harm."  
  
He decided he wasn't going to touch that one with a 10-ft. pole.  
  
"That's not the point baby, where I come from stories for children aren't supposed to be scary.  
  
Aeryn stared at him for a microt and then stalked off through the brush again. "Oh aren't they really, and what would you call your stories?"  
  
"My stories aren't scary."  
  
"No? What would you call the one about the two small children who get lost in the forest and come across an evil scorceress who puts them into a cage and threatens to eat them?"  
  
"Hansel and Gretel get away from the witch."  
  
"Yes, and burn her to death if I remember correctly. Rygel was more merciful with Durka."  
  
"Aeryn that's not…  
  
"Or what would you call the one about the man who climbed the big vegetable and STOLE things from the huge man at the top and then made him fall and CUT OFF HIS HEAD when he tried to get back his own property? What sort of thing are you teaching Jerryn with THAT story."  
  
John rubbed his eyes desperately trying to ward off the headache that was beginning to from between them.  
  
"O.K. so yes, stealing is wrong and murder of people who are trying to get their stuff back is even…. Wronger. But frell it Aeryn, none of those stories are TRUE and not everything's a lesson, some stuff is just for fun."  
  
Aeryn began to flay at low hanging branches and vines with exasperation. "What, so because YOUR stories are LIES and mine are TRUE, my stories are scary and unfit for children? Well that's good to know. It's good to know that the tale of how Anliese Verrell and her marauder crew single handedly liberated the Tyvek mines from the Shayang is BAD. And YOUR story about some silly trelk named Snow What, who can't even protect herself from her father's new wife has to run off and clean for small men until some ridiculous Prince comes and rescues her is GOOD."  
  
"I'll tell you John Crichton," she seethed as she broke through the underbrush into a small clearing, "Our son may be half human but if that's what's considered appropriate for children on your world, I'm glad we're not raising him on Earth."  
  
John froze stock still for two reasons. The first was that Aeryn had just referred to Jerryn as their son. A term she had conspicuously avoided in the past. She never forbid him from using it, or discouraged any one else from using it for that matter, she just never used it herself. He was never sure if it was out of respect for the boy's biological father or because she herself was uncomfortable with the idea, but he'd never pushed her about it. He'd been too afraid of what the answer would be.  
  
And the second more pressing reason was standing between to huge Bilba trees slightly to their right. And holding the largest gun he had ever seen.  
  
  
  
"Babe?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Turn around slowly and don't reach for your gun."  
  
At the softly spoken words Aeryn instinctively turned around quickly and only half reached for her gun. Two microts later there was a bright light and she fell prostrate at John's feet.  
  
A quick look down assured John that she was still breathing but he drew Winona and faced the large man walking towards him face on. He would have tried to rush him but with Jerryn on his back he didn't want to take the risk.  
  
  
  
The man, who was as taller than D'Argo and just about as big, smiled at him unconcerned. The smile did not reach his wide green eyes however and that made John nervous.  
  
"Look big guy, we didn't mean any harm here. We were just passing through; we weren't looking for trouble. Now let me know that she's O.K. and no one else has to get hurt."  
  
The man's smile split open to reveal large even white teeth and it looked like he was chuckling although John heard no sound. He was just about to repeat his demand when a voice came out of the trees to his left.  
  
"Chorn. How many times have I told you not to play with visitors?"  
  
At the soft musical voice, the Behemoth in front of John's face jumped and somehow managed to look like a puppy that had been caught diddling on the living room carpet. He backed up with his hands up and a slightly apologetic look on his face.  
  
"I'm very disappointed in you Chorn. I thought we talked about this."  
  
The man's face turned red, he looked down and began to dig in the dirt with one toe.  
  
"Your companion is not hurt, I can assure you that."  
  
Keeping one eye on the abashed Chorn, John half turned and saw a woman standing a few paces off. She was of average height, with bright red wavy hair and lilting voice that reminded him of Ireland. She wore a simple white robe and sandals and seemed very young, but no different from any other pretty young girl he'd encountered except for the white bandage that covered her eyes.  
  
"And as for Chorn," the girl added apologetically, "He's big and a bit rough, but unless I'm threatened he doesn't mean any harm either. I'm afraid it's a bit boring out here. He doesn't get much in the way of entertainment so he tends to overreact a bit when he does."  
  
Aeryn chose that moment to moan and open her eyes and satisfied that she truly wasn't in any danger John decided to address the woman straight on. He stood up.  
  
"And you would be?"  
  
"Idris, and since no one wanders this far into the Wilderlands for pleasure I assume it's me you seek."  
  
"If you're a Seeress, one of the ones they called "blessed" then I suppose you are."  
  
The girl took a few tentative steps forward her left hand sliding along a neighboring tree trunk for support.  
  
"Blessed. Hummm, the High Counsel would say so. I beg to differ. But I am possessed of a power greater than most of my people, if that's what you mean."  
  
Aeryn had recovered enough to get back on her feet and was watching the exchange somewhat warily.  
  
"Are you alright?" John took a microt to ask.  
  
Aeryn nodded. "Bit of a sore head, but basically I'm fine. How's Jerryn?"  
  
"He's O.K. The excitement had him screaming for awhile bit as you can see he's settled down now."  
  
She looked back at the Seeress again.  
  
"Idris wasn't it?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"We are.."  
  
"I know who you are," Idris gently interrupted. "Or rather I knew that people were coming. A man with a request, a difficult one should I choose to accept it and a woman who is his protector. She paused and tilted her head to the side. "Didn't tell me about the child though."  
  
"I am Aeryn, the man is John, the child is Jerryn." Aeryn paused a microt then continued; "Can you help us?"  
  
Idris frowned a bit, "All things are possible, but not all things are advantageous."  
  
John sighed, "Look I don't mean to be rude, but do you think we can cut the psychedelic rhetoric and just speak plain? We've come a long way and I need an answer."  
  
"I'm sure you do." Idris replied. "But what you wish is not an easy thing, or safe. I need to be sure that if I undertake this, if I agree to put my life and yours at risk, that it won't be done in vain."  
  
John stared at the ground, he should have known it wouldn't be easy, nothing in his world ever was. For everything gained there was a price to be paid. He wondered how high the stakes for this one were.  
  
"What do you need to know?"  
  
Idris held out a hand to Chorn who helped her to a nearby rock to sit down.  
  
Taking the hint John and Aeryn settled themselves on the ground in front of her.  
  
"You wish to contact someone?"  
  
John nodded. "My father."  
  
"Is he dead?"  
  
"Not to my knowledge," He paused, "But it's been a long time, I can't say for sure."  
  
Idris nodded. "It makes a difference you see. The dead are in the realm beyond, I can not contact them unless they meet me half way. Your father would not know me. If he is dead, there is no guarantee he would come."  
  
"And if he's not dead?"  
  
"Then it depends, where is he?"  
  
"A planet called Earth. Some 60 cycles away."  
  
Idris shook her head; "Such a thing would kill me I..."  
  
"Then why?" interrupted Aeryn, "Would they send us ... send John all the way out here if it can't be done? Why tell us all things are possible if they aren't."  
  
Idris smiled slightly, "I said all things were possible, but not all things were advantageous. I could try to send your mates thoughts over such a distance, it may succeed, it may not. It would however certainly kill me. Only the old ones, the ones of the pure blood were possessed of such power and their hold on it was tenuous at best. So what you ask is possible, but not advantageous, at least not for me."  
  
"However there may be another way. But I would first like to know more about you and why it is so important to contact your father."  
  
And so for the next ahrn John told her the story of a man lost in space and searching for home. How that search led to wormholes and wormholes led to madness and the madness as brought on by people who would tame the technology eventually led to war.  
  
"It's not my fault, any of it," John concluded, "I was only trying to get home. I didn't ask for the technology, or to be one of the few who can use it. But I am and as such I have the responsibility to keep it out of dangerous hands. The Peacekeepers want it, the Scarens would destroy a race for it and the Nabari" He shook his head, "Well, one evil at a time is all I can stand. But my home world for all I would love to show them this world's wonders is too backward and primitive. If I went home, someone would follow, either out of personal vengeance or because of the stuff in my head."  
  
I couldn't protect them there, I can here. But before I turn my back on Earth there are some things that need to be said."  
  
"To your father?"  
  
"Yes, he..." John paused struggling for the words. "I know he must suffer. He doesn't know either way if I'm living or dead. And he must be blaming himself for what happened. I don't want that, I've spent to much time killing myself over 'what could have been' to know what regrets can cost you."  
  
"I've accepted that I may never get back to Earth and even if I do it won't be for a long time. I could die out here, or he could die down there and the moment would be lost forever. I didn't get to say good-bye to him, to tell him what he meant to me, what he did for me for all those years. I think he deserves to know how his only son turned out. And damnit, after all I've been through I think I deserve to tell him."  
  
John paused and ran a hand over his face to wipe away the unexpected tears. "But that's selfish, and it's not up to me. If the risk is too much Idris, then I beg you not to take it. I can't have any more souls on my conscious." He looked at Aeryn, "Sometimes fate plays you a hand and sometimes it takes one away. Either way I'll live with it."  
  
Idris was silent for a long while and when she spoke her voice wasn't much more than a whisper.  
  
"When I was 9 cycles old it was discovered I had the gift. I could see things about people, what they were thinking, their thoughts and fears. I could... manipulate them, make them see what I wanted them to, think what I wanted them to act the way I wanted them to. It was fun at first, like they were puppets in my own personal show. But after a while it all got too much, I couldn't separate my thoughts from those around me, and it became too easy to strike out when someone angered me. I.... made someone hurt themselves once. And so it was decided that I was too dangerous. That my power needed to be tightly controlled and hidden away. After all what a coup it would be for our enemies if they found out about my existence. A mind that could control others? What price wouldn't they pay, what measures wouldn't they go to gain such a thing?"  
  
"So the high counsel decided that it would be best if I was hidden away. I and the few others like me. Taken from our families and banished to the wilds. Our powers turned into a myth so that no one would believe our existence. They said it was for our own protection, so we wouldn't hurt anyone. But I know it was actually as a protection to them, so that when the time came, if our planet were ever threatened, we could be used as the very weapons they said they were trying to keep us from becoming."  
  
"So we've been here for cycles Chorn and I," Idris paused and reached out a hand which the big man took with a smile. "No contact except what the High Counsel allows, kept here like prisoners. My family was killed some time ago and I wasn't even allowed to put them to rest. To dangerous they said to let me come into the city or let there remains be brought here for the ceremony of the dead. Someone else had to help them over, some stranger. And it should have been me. So I understand why you make your request John. I understand very well indeed."  
  
There was silence for a few microts after she finished and then Aeryn spoke up with a question.  
  
"If you are so powerful that you can control people's minds, why don't you just leave? I don't see how they can stop you."  
  
"I can control one mind easily, a few together with some effort. But the High Counsel is made up of powerful Seer's with talents of their own. They can block, keep me mentally ... tied down. At least for now.  
  
"For now?" asked John.  
  
"I'm young, my power is growing. Even now I can counter them for short periods of time. Make them think they are tracking me when they aren't. But it's hard, and when my attention is divided it's harder. That's why what you suggest poses such a risk."  
  
"Idris like I said if it's to big a risk don't take it."  
  
"Kralla thought your request worthy enough to risk her position on the High Counsel to tell me about it. And she is not one to do things lightly. She owes you her life John Crichton and I for my own reasons owe her mine. She seems to feel there are larger forces at work here that we need to consider and although the future is fluid, your part in it is set. For that reason alone I am willing to risk it. That and the fact that no man should meet his destiny without letting his loved ones know where he stands.  
  
"What is it you propose to do?"  
  
"Chorn?" Idris called, "come here and draw what I say."  
  
Chorn looked at Idris with something close to reproach in his face.  
  
"I know what I'm doing," Idris said although no one had spoken. " Don't fight me on this, it's not for you to say." And then sensing their confusion she turned her head toward John and Aeryn again. "We've grown close over the cycles Chorn and I. We have developed.... a connection."  
  
John smiled a little, "So I see."  
  
Idris blushed at the implication. "A mental one John Crichton. I can hear him, he can hear me. He's mute it comes in handy."  
  
"So if you won't use telepathy? What do you propose?"  
  
"There are places," Idris began. "Between this realm and the next. Covergences where realities overlap. We all visit them when we sleep; we all traverse them when we die. But they are dangerous and unstable for the conscious mind, constantly changing and one can get easily lost."  
  
"I died once," Aeryn said. "I went ... someplace.. and a Delvian came and found me, is that the place you mean?"  
  
"It is one of them," Idris concurred, "There are many."  
  
John looked down his brow furrowed in thought, "In my world some people think that when you sleep your soul leaves your body and goes to another place. Most times we can't remember this place but when we do it is in the form of dreams. Is that what you propose? To... enter my father's dream."  
  
Idris nodded, "It seems you are not as primitive as you think. Your description is simplistic but not completely incorrect."  
  
She tapped Chorn on his shoulder and he began to draw.  
  
"You may think of the plane I'm referring to as a long wide road. There are an infinite number of doors on this road and each door leads to another plane. Some planes lead to other states of existence, others to the realm of the dead. Others still lead to a sentient being's consciousness. Normally this door is locked. Thoughts are private and one can not enter. This is why your dreams are yours and no one else can know them."  
  
"However I think it may be possible for me to open that door, enter into another's consciousness and perhaps, if we're lucky, I can take you with me."  
  
John frowned, "So you're saying we might be able to enter my dad's dreams."  
  
Idris nodded. "Or what he perceives as a dream yes. But it will be dangerous. His mind might reject our presence; we may not be able to find his consciousness on the road. He may eject us and send us spinning who knows where. We may get lost."  
  
"Lost?" Asked Aeryn.  
  
"The consciousness can only exist so long away from the body before it no longer has the strength to push through and return. The body knows this, which's why your dreams are short. And the leaving is often involuntary taking a conscious mind into the depths of the unconscious is unnatural and the realm will try to push you out."  
  
"It's like a candle, the wick gets dimmer the longer it's kept from the air, eventually, if you deny it to long it will die out."  
  
And what happens then?" Asked John.  
  
Idris shrugged. "No one knows for sure. But my guess is that your body would remain as though you were sleeping. Your bodily functions would continue to work, but your mind would be gone. Lost on that road for all eternity, never to return."  
  
"The living death." Aeryn said softly looking at John. "I guess your people aren't completely immune after all."  
  
John sighed. "If we do this... do I have to come along. I think carrying me would be a burden. What if I simply give you the message and you deliver it? You are the one with the power, the control."  
  
Idris shook her head. "I don't know your father John Crichton, I would know which door is his. You would know, you would feel it. I can only guide and an anchor if we find him. The telling would be left to you."  
  
"How long can you keep us there before any damage is done."  
  
"I don't know, I've never entered the shadow realm as we call it for more than a few microts and I've never tried to bring another mind with me. I'd just have to try to bring us back before my strength ran out."  
  
John looked at the drawing in the mud on the ground. A road, doors, crisscrossing realities. It was Fahrbot and frelled and in another life he would have put the whole thing up to some madman's psychotic dream and grabbed Aeryn and walked out of there. But 5 cycles in Oz had taught him that anything was possible even something as crazy as this.  
  
"Can I have a microt please?" He asked.  
  
Idris nodded and Chorn helped her walk a few paces away.  
  
"What do you think?" He asked Aeryn.  
  
"You already know."  
  
"I know, it's crazy at best and suicidal at worst and if I had any sense I'd pack up and high tail it back up to Moya. The war will kill me more gently than what she's proposing is."  
  
"That's true. But you already answered your question."  
  
"I have?"  
  
Aeryn nodded. "You said we would head back if you had any sense."  
  
John sighed, "And I've never had sense have I?  
  
"Not in the 5 cycles I've known you."  
  
John looked at Aeryn's serious face and laughed. "God, why can't it ever be easy." He said. "I'm going to do this aren't I."  
  
"You are," Aeryn said with a rueful half smile. " It's the only option, and you are John Crichton, you can't do anything less."  
  
"Aeryn..."  
  
"I know. Idris?" Aeryn called over her shoulder. "The answer is yes."  
  
  
  
"We should get started John Crichton. We must do this before nightfall and I need some time to prepare."  
  
"O.K. Lets go." John looked over at Aeryn who started forward but was stopped by the large form of Chorn blocking her way.  
  
"Only the petitioner may come within John." Idris explained. "Your mate and child may wait here in the garden."  
  
"Idris.... Aeryn."  
  
"Will be fine right here." Idris voice was firm. "No harm will come to either of them and they'll be here if we get back."  
  
"WHEN," John corrected her forcefully, "When we get back."  
  
Idris didn't reply, she merely turned and entered the cave with Chorn at her side.  
  
John turned to Aeryn who stood regarding him without speaking.  
  
"Baby I.."  
  
"Shhh" Aeryn stopped him by placing her fingers against his lips. She shook her head. "We've been in this place before."  
  
"But I...."  
  
"Shhhh," Aeryn shook her head. "You know how this goes. I leave, you wait, I don't come back, you follow. You leave, I wait, you don't come back I follow. It's been that way for over 5 cycles John Crichton give or take a moen or two. Lets not bother with the formula, it works."  
  
John took her face in his hands, closed his eyes, leaned his forehead against hers and drank in her smell. "I love you you know that don't you? More than anything in the universe."  
  
She didn't reply, she just twisted her head slightly and captured his mouth with her own, parting his lips with her tongue and offering her sweet warmth as though it were some gift, some guard against the forces he was about to face. A talisman for him to carry with him into the unknown.  
  
And he knew then that if this failed and he died, it wouldn't all have been in vain. He'd tried his best, he'd done some good. And he had been loved by Aeryn Sun.  
  
He pulled back from her gently, knowing if he stayed much longer he would give into the fear building in him and not go at all.  
  
"Take care of Mommy." He whispered to the small figure staring at him solemnly over Aeryn's shoulder. "Take care of Mommy until I get back."  
  
Jerryn pulled his fingers out of his mouth and placed one wet hand against John's cheek. "Da."  
  
"That's right, baby, Daddy will be back." And with one last look into Aeryn's eyes. He turned and left.  
  
John entered the cavern and Chorn was waiting. He led him to a center room empty except for a piece of cloth on the floor and candles stuck in crevices to light the room. Idris was seated on the cloth. She was deep in thought or so it seemed to John and she did not speak when he approached.  
  
Chorn shoved John lightly on the shoulders and John took the hint and sat down across from the Seeress.  
  
When he did so she stretched out both hands palm up.  
  
"I can not tell you what you will see. I can not tell you what you will feel. The shadow realm shows itself differently to each being that traverses it. But you must concentrate John Crichton. Fix a picture of your father in your mind and hold on to it. You must see him, as though he were right there in front of you. You must picture everything. His smell, his look, the way his skin feels under your fingers. It is the only you will know him, the only way I will know him. Ignore everything else. Do not get distracted, my grip on your mind will be precarious at best, stray from our course and I may very well lose you.  
  
"I understand."  
  
"Then give me your hands."  
  
John closed his eyes and grasped Idris pro offered palms. At first nothing happened. Then he felt a tickling at the edge of his consciousness. Much like Harvey had done before the neural clone had been ripped from his brain. He relaxed, he didn't fight it and soon he the same disconnected feeling he had during unity with Zahn. A floating semi sexual rush that made him gasp.  
  
He felt himself slip and then he was falling and there was nothing to hold on to and no way to stop and there were sounds and colors and OH god now there was pain and visions to fast for his mind to hold on to rushing and rushing and rushing through his brain. And the part of him that still functioned laughed that this was the way he was going to go out, this was the way John Crichton would end. Not with a bang, not even with a whimper, but lost in a dream, caught in his own brain.  
  
And just as suddenly it stopped, the pain and the noise and the rapid decent, like a bungie cord jumper he pulled up short and .... steadied.  
  
Idris, he thought for there were no voices here.  
  
"I am here now concentrate."  
  
And so he did, with everything he was. He thought of Jack Crichton, his white hair he was too proud to color the blue eyes so very much like his own. The way he always smelled of aqua velva and leather, his voice the rich timber of it calling him home. He could see him now, in a place, he couldn't quite tell where, but if he got closer he'd know it, so he strained hard to see. Blue sky, white sand, and something looming larger. A feeling of being shoved through thick glass. Pain, and then...  
  
  
  
He came to Canaveral every fall. Same beach house, same time. He did the same things when he came. A little ritual to make the futility make sense. He walked along the shore at sunrise, made himself some coffee and toast did a little fishing, a little shopping for his granddaughters and every evening, he sat on the porch with a six pack, looked at the space shuttles parked at NASA... and toasted his son.  
  
It had started out as a promise, back in the days when there had still been hope. He would sit on the porch and look at all the lights of the base and swear on them and all he held holy that he would bring John back home alive.  
  
Once the hope was gone it had become a mission. He would drink himself silly and stand and swear at the huge metal structures with their silent grace and curse them for not only taking his sons life but for taking losing it among the stars where he had little hope of ever retrieving his body.  
  
And they had tried. For months they had tried. They had sent up another shuttle to look for debris, sent a robot probe out with a long range transmitter on John's last known trajectory in hopes it would pick up something, sent out radio waves, repeating transmitters, every scientific toy known to man in the hopes of finding... something.  
  
But nothing had been found. His son was gone as though he had never existed.  
  
And so now coming to the Cape and staying in this house and looking at the shuttles was a ritual. A way of saying to himself that John Robert Crichton had existed and been his for 34 years. That he wasn't just some picture on his mantle or on a NASA memorial wall. That he had been REAL.  
  
Jack Crichton settled himself on the porch of the small beach house and opened up his first beer of the evening. He knew how this would go. He would sit here and remember. Drink and remember. Remember big blue eyes and stubby legs running at him calling "Da", remember the feel of small hands in his own, of hushed words on cold spring mornings when the fish were biting and the sound of young laughter.  
  
Remember the sight of high school football games, and pretty girls coming by the house. The squeals of his daughters and they chased and were chased by their little brother and the pride, the unfathomable pride of that morning he was lost. The boy had been everything he never was, everything he had ever hoped to be, and he was gone. Lost, because of him.  
  
And they told him he shouldn't blame himself but he knew better. He had pushed and prodded and demanded, telling himself it was for the boy's own good. He had ignored the disappointment on his son's face of missed birthdays and forgotten trips in order to peruse his own goals. He'd known how the child felt, like he was living in the shadow of something greater than himself, some legend he had to live up to, some hero he had to surpass. And he'd never done quite enough to dispel those feelings. Thinking that a little paternal jealousy would be good for the boy, make him work harder, try more, be the best he could be. When what he should have told him was that he was already good enough.  
  
The love between a man and his son is a complicated thing. Rarely explored, often exploited and mostly unsaid. And it was that part he felt the need to atone for. All the things left unsaid between them. The I love you's, the I'm proud of you's the you don't need to be me's.  
  
And it was for those sins he would sit here and remember. Close his eyes and drink his beer and let the images come until the blessed unconsciousness of sleep took the memories away and the morning would eventually come and he'd take a Tylenol against the pain and start the ritual all over again.  
  
  
  
"Dad?"  
  
"Yes son?"  
  
"You look like Crap."  
  
He smiles. "It's good to hear your voice again son."  
  
"Again? I've .... been here before?"  
  
"Of course you have. You were here a lot in the early days, kept me company. Not so much now. Why is that do you think?"  
  
"I don't know, I expect I've been.... occupied."  
  
"So why are you back now?"  
  
"I have some things I need to say."  
  
"That's funny."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"It's usually me who does the talking."  
  
Jack hears his son laugh, "You're right it usually is. But I don't have much time so I'm afraid you're going to have to listen."  
  
"Ah well, I guess it won't kill me this once, go ahead."  
  
There is silence.  
  
"Son?"  
  
"Yes dad?"  
  
"I thought you had something to say?"  
  
"I did... I just... I've waited so long. Dreamed of it so much, and now, that I have you here... there's so much... and I don't know where to begin."  
  
"Begin at the beginning."  
  
"Those are mom's words not yours."  
  
"Well, she always was the smarter of the two of us."  
  
"She was at that."  
  
"She always deserved better than me. You both did."  
  
"Stop it dad. We couldn't have asked for more."  
  
"No, son you could have. You could have and you should have, I failed you both."  
  
"No, dad stop. I don't... I don't have time to deal with your self-pity. I've done a lifetime of that ... for the both of us. It wasn't your fault, none of it. Not mom, not me. The cancer took her, neither of us could stop that, or help it, or help the way we reacted to it. She understood. She knew her men. And as for me, well that was fate... or maybe luck."  
  
Jack snorted. "Bad luck."  
  
"Or good, it depends on what day I'm looking at it."  
  
"Is that what you do son... wherever you are? Sit around and contemplate fate?"  
  
There's a pause and some shuffling and Jack can feel him now, feel Johns presence beside him. And he knows he must be on one bender of a drunk because it hasn't been this strong since the beginning when he thought he might still get the boy back alive. But he doesn't open his eyes to look, afraid that if he does all he'll see is the sand and the sky and the spaceships across the bay.  
  
"No dad. Fate doesn't give me time to contemplate, if she did I'd thank her for it. At least it would let me sit still for awhile."  
  
Jack smirks, and brings the bottle of beer to his lips by feel alone "Been busy flying around Heaven have you son?"  
  
"I'm not in Heaven dad."  
  
"Oh come on now, I know the sins of the father are vested on the son, but even so you were far to good a boy to get sent to Hell."  
  
"I'm not in Hell either although I've been through there a couple times."  
  
Jack pauses. This dream is different; the words seem almost real. Has a ghost come visiting him in this alcoholic haze? He doesn't believe in such things. But, he thinks hazily, if they believe in him who is he to stop them?  
  
"Then... where are you son?"  
  
" Oh good Lord, now there's one for Jeopardy. I think Lucas put it best. I'm a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away."  
  
"I ask you a serious question and you make jokes. Typical."  
  
Jack feels rather than sees the smile. "God I've missed you dad."  
  
"Well wherever you are you sound good. Happy even."  
  
"Happy, ummmm. Well I am right now. I am today and I don't know when I'll have a chance to have the feeling again so I'm savoring it. Life hasn't always been so kind since I got lost."  
  
"Is that what you are son? Lost?"  
  
"Well I sure as hell ain't dead dad. Although on many occasions I've wished I was. I'm not dead."  
  
"You'll always live in my memory son."  
  
"Open up your eyes and look at me."  
  
"No."  
  
"Look at me."  
  
"NO!!"  
  
Jack knows a hand hovers over the skin of his arm. The short hairs prickling in response to the almost felt stimulus. He resists the urge to reach out and grab it.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"If I do you'll go away and its been so long. So long since I've been able to hear you. I thought I'd forgotten what you sound like. Your sisters say I'm sick for coming here. For doing this to myself each year. They say that you wouldn't like it. But you weren't their son. They didn't hold you in the hospital all wrinkled and screaming didn't teach you to walk or watch you fly off to die. That was me, my burden to carry, mine and your mothers and since she's gone I have to carry it alone. Children shouldn't die before their parents. It's against nature."  
  
"Dad."  
  
"Yes son."  
  
"I promise you I won't disappear if you open your eyes. Trust me please. I don't have much time in this place. Just open your eyes and look at me."  
  
And because Jack hears that sound in John's voice, That desperate cajoling sound that he used to beg for money and the car keys when he was a teen. That pulls at every parents heart, he relents and opens his eyes.  
  
John is sitting next to him staring out to sea. He's wearing all black and boots of a type he's never seen before.  
  
"You take up motorcycling wherever you are?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"The leather. I gotta stop drinking this beer if it makes me hallucinate like this. You look like a refugee from the Hells Angles, kid"  
  
John looks down at himself and smiles. "Idris said you'd see this as a dream. And as for the leather, I don't know. I'm told it's kinda sexy. I know you didn't expect me to wear IASA gear for 5 years dad. John pauses and turns to look at him at last, a worried expression on his face. "It has been 5 years hasn't it dad?"  
  
"5 years 6 months 14 days."  
  
"Stop keeping count."  
  
"I have to."  
  
"No you don't. It will drive you crazy. I gave it up a long time ago."  
  
Jack takes a closer look at his son, at the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the gray starting to show among the brown of his hair, the scars on his arms and face that he doesn't remember. "You look older son."  
  
"Well it has been 5 years."  
  
"I don't see how I can remember you older. Not even in a dream. This is a dream right?"  
  
John gets out of the chair and Jack can see that his eyes are haunted, that his innocence is gone, that he ... knows things. And this disturbs him more than the weapon to his child's thigh. He feels his body tense up.  
  
John runs a hand through his hair and Jack can see scars on his wrists. " A dream, another reality, unity, another dimension. I don't know. Idris tried to explain and I didn't understand. It's complex, that's why I always left the spiritual stuff to Zahn."  
  
"Zahn?"  
  
"She was a friend. Blue, you would have liked her."  
  
Jack smiles relaxing. "You're carrying a gun and talking about blue friends it must be a dream. Thank god I thought for a minute I was going insane."  
  
John smiles back at him and Jack can see a remnant of the boy he remembers. "No dad, trust me I've been insane, and you're nowhere near close. But I have to hurry, Idris tells me she's tiring."  
  
"Idris?'  
  
"No time. The Farscape experiment went wrong dad, but in a horribly right way. It fell into a wormhole. It MADE the wormhole and.... sent me here to this place."  
  
"What place?"  
  
"If I told you it wouldn't make sense and you wouldn't believe me. Suffice it to say there's a whole 'nother world out there dad, beyond anything you or I've ever dreamed of. Full of people and things both beautiful and horrifying. And I have ..purpose and a life of sorts. And the accident, it wasn't your fault."  
  
"I know that son, but I pushed you to.."  
  
"ENOUGH dad. What happened happened and neither of us can change it now. And even if I could I don't know that I would. Because if I did then..." John trailed off and half-turned away from him to look down the beach.  
  
"Then what."  
  
His son didn't answer; he simply shaded his eyes against the sun and pointed to a spot a short way off.  
  
Jack followed his arm and saw a woman standing there. Tall, fierce with the bearing of a soldier. A breeze rippled her jet-black hair and she had a cold beauty, which made his heart stir in a way he hadn't thought possible anymore.  
  
"Who's that?"  
  
"That's... Aeryn."  
  
"Is she... ?"  
  
"My wife? Not exactly."  
  
"She looks like a military girl, what does she do?"  
  
John scruffs his foot on the porch and when Jack looks back towards the girl again she seems to draw closer, which is an odd thing because she doesn't seem to be walking at all.  
  
"She..... watches my back mostly dad. Watches my back and loves me. Which is more than I deserve after all I've done to her."  
  
"Which is?"  
  
"Die and come back."  
  
Jack can now see that the girl has gray eyes and a foreign look about her. Like she's from another country but one he can't name. And he can tell that there is little softness in her. She does everything hard this one. She loves his son hard too, he can see it in her face and it makes him happy and sad at the same time.  
  
The girl doesn't seem to see Jack or John, her full concentration on the small boy in her arms. She speaks to him although Jack can't hear the words and the child looks up at her with bright blue eyes and the Crichton chin.  
  
"The boy...... he's yours too?"  
  
John pauses and something strange passes over his face. Something painful and sad. But whatever it is he lets it pass and turns to Jack in the face.  
  
"He is your Grandson, yes."  
  
"The son you would have had?"  
  
John smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes and there is no humor in it, only sadness. "That's more accurate than you know."  
  
"What?"  
  
John shakes his head. " He's only just learned to say dad. You never told me how great that would feel."  
  
"I should have."  
  
Jack looks back at the child.  
  
"What do you call him?"  
  
"Jerryn."  
  
Jack frowns, contemplating that. "Jerryn. It's a different name."  
  
"This is a different place. And his mother picked the name. Perhaps if we have another, I'll get to choose that."  
  
"Do you want more?"  
  
"Later, If Aeryn says yes."  
  
Jack feels himself waking up, or perhaps he's getting sick from all the beer. The beach and the woman and his son all start to waver, grow hazy like he's looking at them through thick glass.  
  
"Whoa, I've got to slow down."  
  
John looks up at the sky and his eyes at something Jack can't see and he nods.  
  
"I have to hurry, Idris is fading. I don't want to hurt her."  
  
Jack looks back at the place the woman called Aeryn was standing but she and the baby are gone.  
  
"Dad listen. The Farscape project, it didn't fail. I wasn't killed I was sent through a wormhole. I can't tell you how it works; we aren't ready for that yet. And there are people and things that would hurt us if we knew. But DK might figure it out. He was always smarter than me anyway. You tell him to dig up my old notes, the ones where we use the atmosphere as wave repeater, the ones where we drew up those space time continuum theory when we were drunk. Tell him to look at those again. Look at them and believe.  
  
"Son...?"  
  
"No dad there's no time. You tell DK for me. Tell him that all that stuff we dreamed about is actually true and if he believes in it enough, and he's willing to try hard enough he can come find me. You tell him to come find me."  
  
"Son you're not making any sense."  
  
John laughs. "I know. But you tell him anyway. There's a war on here and people who would destroy everything. I have to keep them away and that's what I'm doing. I can't come to you. But maybe, if you try hard enough you can come to me. Promise me you'll make them try dad. It's all I have to offer. Promise me you'll tell DK to believe in the wormholes and try."  
  
"I promise son."  
  
"I have to go now dad. I've stayed far to long as it is. I want you to know that you were right that day at Canaveral. Every man gets to be his own kind of hero and when it comes your turn, its like nothing you've ever expected."  
  
"I've seen good things and bad since I've left you. I've known insanity and great joy. I am not the man that I was, but I can live with what life has made me. I have a woman who means everything to me and a son I grow prouder of everyday. I'm making a difference here dad. And I don't regret a thing."  
  
And John's fading now and the whole world is fading, slowing down like a warped record. Jack reaches out for his son's hand.  
  
"John?"  
  
"I love you dad. I don't think I said that the day that I left. I love you more than anything. Thank you for all you've done for me, all you'll continue to do. Thank you for helping me become what I am."  
  
And Jack staggers and his head spins and he calls out his name one more time.  
  
"John!!"  
  
And then everything goes black.  
  
  
  
The first thing John felt was Idris crashing against him hard enough to make them both stumble. He had the presence of mind to twist himself and take the brunt of their fall but impact was enough to make the Seeress cry out anyway.  
  
John disentangled himself and rolled a few paces away. He hurt, his ears rang and his vision when he opened his eyes was blurry. His stomach heaved and he managed to get himself to his knees in time to throw up.  
  
"Idris" He called out his voice shaky and weak.  
  
"Idris you alright?"  
  
There was no answer.  
  
"Idris?" John tried to shake his head to clear his vision but the resulting nausea almost sent the last of his stomach contents into his throat again. He steadied himself and then began to crawl towards what he could just make out was her prone form.  
  
"Idris, I need you to talk to me." John felt along her side. She seemed to be on her stomach and he could feel her ribs rise and fall so he knew that she was breathing and no major bones seemed to be broken. Still, she was at the very least unconscious and he had no idea what damage might have been done to her mind. He blinked a few more times and as his vision began to clear turned her gently towards him.  
  
"Frell!!"  
  
The sight nearly made him drop her. The Seeress face was covered in blood. It soaked the bandage covering her eyes, and oozed from her ears and the corners of her mouth. As John sat debating whether or not to strip the bandage off and check for damage beneath her body went rigid and she started to seize.  
  
"Oh Frell, Chorn?!!!" John kept a lose grip on Idris as the convulsions grew in intensity. He was afraid of hurting her further but was also aware that his arms and lap were the only thing keeping her body from the hard stone floor. "CHORN? AERYN COME QUICKLY SHE'S HURT!!!"  
  
Idris mouth fell open at that point and a high-pitched keening noise came out. Her body began to glow and the convulsions reached the point where her feet were drumming on the floor and John feared he would lose hold of her altogether.  
  
"Oh God, CHORN!! AERYN!!! PLEASE I THINK SHE'S DYING!!!"  
  
  
  
"Oh God," He thought. I've killed her. I stayed to long, I took too much. If she dies…" The rest of his ruminations were cut off by the sight of Chorn rounding the corner at a full run. He took one look at Idris, shoved John aside with such force he went flying into the far wall and dropped to his knees with a soundless scream.  
  
_______________________________________________________  
  
He must have passed out because the first thing he was conscious of was darkness and a pain in his head. The next was the sound of someone calling his name.  
  
"John?"  
  
His mouth was wet, something warm and salty, he must have bitten his tongue.  
  
"John can you hear me?"  
  
Sure he could hear and he supposed if he opened his eyes he could see, but it was so nice here in the darkness so warm and so calm, it couldn't hurt just to stay here a few moments longer.  
  
"John I need you to open your eyes.... John!"  
  
But the voice would not let him be so he opened his eyes and looked into ones as green as an Irish hillside. Green and beautiful and...  
  
"Idris?"  
  
She smiled. "Yes, it's me. Chorn came in time."  
  
He tried to swallow, grimaced and then rolled over and spat the pain from the cut in his tongue helping to clear his head.  
  
"I can see you... I mean your eyes."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You're not..?" He left the question hanging as he struggled into a sitting position.  
  
"No." Idris shook her head. "I was never blind. The bandage, it serves as a reminder a way to filter the distractions. A Seeress must look inward, not be blinded by the surface of things. Her vision lies places other than her eyes."  
  
He blinked hard and took a good look at her. He had been right; she was pretty and very young. He reached out a hand and tucked a stray tendril of red hair behind one ear. "And yet you have yours off. Why?"  
  
Idris sat back on her heels. She had changed clothes, wore a tunic and pants and boots made of leather and there was no sign of the trauma or the blood on her face.  
  
"Because I wanted to see you. And .... because it is no longer necessary."  
  
John paused, "Not necessary? What do you mean?"  
  
Idris sighed and ran her hands over her face. "I told you it could be dangerous, that there might be... repercussions for what we did." Her voice broke and she stopped.  
  
John felt his stomach drop and his mouth go dry. If he'd hurt her in any way.. "Are you ..?"  
  
She stopped him with a sharp shake of her head. "Do not concern yourself, I am unharmed, at least physically. The damage wasn't ... outward, more... in my head."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"We nearly got lost, and it took so much to carry you, and when we finally did return to this place... I don't know... I thought I wouldn't be able to bring us in. The barrier was so solid, and I was so tired. But I guess the Gods were with us because I was able to succeed in the end."  
  
He searched her face; he'd gotten so good at reading them lately. He saw past the brave front, the smile, to the tears underneath.  
  
"There was a price wasn't there? You didn't come back whole."  
  
Idris shook her head. "No. I got us back but it took everything I had. My powers are gone, and I am empty and alone. I don't know why it happened. If I am being punished or what I have done. I only know it's so ....quiet and I can no longer see inward. And I just..." She broke off and leaned forward and buried her head in his chest.  
  
John reached out and put his arms around the sobbing Seeress. "I'm sorry" he whispered" and cursed himself for letting yet another person pay for his success. "My fault. I'm sorry."  
  
She pulled back from him after a microt and wiped at her face. "No. We both knew the risks. I took them as you did. And you succeeded, we succeeded and that's something at least."  
  
"But I stayed to long," he began, "if I hadn't..."  
  
"Stop." Idris voice was shaking but firm. "There's no saying the same thing wouldn't have happened. Besides, what's done is done, and I'm not sure I'm not the better for it. I can have my life back again. Even if it is on the run."  
  
"The run?"  
  
"The high counsel will know soon enough what I've done. They'll want to know what happened and why and I can't have that. I can't have them knowing that it is possible to enter the shadow world and take someone with you. To control it, even for a little while like we did. Can you think of the implications? You spoke to your father John, you were there, it was real. What if that's not all you could do, what if given enough time, enough power you could touch him, harm him, kill him even. If the mind dies what becomes of the body? No this must never happen again. I'm afraid you'll have to leave quickly as well. This whole thing has put you in danger too."  
  
John staggered to his feet. "Don't worry about me. I'm an expert at hiding, fighting when I have to and staying on my feet. We'll be fine and we have resources to help us. I'll just add the Seers of Valdon to the list of people currently after my ass." He pulled a rueful face; "It's a long list and varied. I hope they like the back of the line."  
  
Idris managed a smile. "I'll get word to Kralla, she will stall as long as she can. She was right about you you know. Brave, stupid and primitive. Still, you very well may just save us all. I'm not sorry I helped you John Crichton, don't you be either."  
  
He stared at her. "O.K. I won't be. And thank you, thank you more than I can say."  
  
She nodded. "You needed this. I can see that now. Your mind would have always been divided if you hadn't tried. And your mind can't be divided if you are to survive what is to come."  
  
"You know something you aren't telling me?"  
  
"Perhaps, perhaps not. As I said before, the future is fluid and it is best not to worry ourselves over things that may or may not come to be. " She sighed. "for all it hurts I must admit, it will be nice to only have to worry over my future for a change."  
  
John helped Idris to her feet. "Where will you go? We have room on Moya if you like."  
  
"No. It would be unwise for us to travel together. Chorn will see that I am alright." Idris paused and a blush lit her face, "I can still hear him you know. Not words anymore but his feelings. He will not leave me I'm sure of it."  
  
John smiled, "Of course not. He's in love with you."  
  
Idris stumbled a bit and John caught at her arm and was reminded again how stripped of her powers she was little more than a girl.  
  
"He is not.. I mean,, he's fond of me certainly..but that doesn't mean he... I mean we've" She stopped stammering and faced John head on. "Did he SAY something to you?"  
  
He laughed. "He didn't have to. I just know."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Because he looks at you the same way I look at Aeryn. That's all the proof I need."  
  
Idris opened her mouth and then shut it again the blush on her face rapidly matching her hair. "Oh." She said simply. "Then I guess we'd better get going."  
  
"Yes." Replied John and took her hand.  
  
  
  
He was alive, that much she knew.  
  
Aeryn stopped her pacing long enough to glance in the direction of her child. Jerryn was still absorbed in the pile of rocks she'd given him to play with and wasn't hungry or wet as far as she could tell so she resumed pacing again.  
  
He was alive, although she didn't know in what state. It had been almost an ahrn since Chorn had gone running into the cave and three since John had gone in there with the Seeress and the frustration of not knowing what was going on was about to drive her insane. Patience never had been her strong suit and patience in the face of danger suited her even less. She felt completely hobbled by her inability to act.  
  
Still, she reasoned, he had to be alive, he couldn't have cried out like that if he wasn't. And she had heard him call out for Idris, not himself so perhaps she could assume that if he were injured at least the wounds weren't life threatening.  
  
Aeryn looked toward the entrance to the cave again and then sat down. She considered again for a microt going in and searching for them but then pushed the thought out of her head. She'd tried that half an ahrn ago and given up after 500 microts. The place was a maze inside. An endless series of twisting and turning tunnels that seemed to lead nowhere and everywhere at once. It wouldn't do for her to get lost, especially not with Jerryn and no matter how they screamed they couldn't or weren't answering her calls.  
  
He'd better not have gotten himself killed or damaged in any permanent way.  
  
She swore loudly in frustration and was instantly contrite when Jerryn took her tone for anger and began to cry. "I'm sorry" she said and pulled him onto her lap. "It's not you, I'm just..." she stopped not sure how to continue or even if she should. Could he understand her? Did she even need to apologize? This mother thing was trickier than Commando training and 5 times as hard. At least the Commando training had come with a field manual.  
  
But picking him up seemed to have done the trick, he quieted and leaned back against her chest and began sucking his thumb. And she allowed herself a moments indulgence, buried her face in his hair and drank in the sweet baby smell of him. A mixture of newness and her and John and something uniquely all his own. It... moved her in ways she accepted but didn't fully understand.  
  
And she knew she was awkward with him, never knowing if she was to harsh or to lax and for all John told her she was doing fine and not to worry she did. She knew what growing up... lacking was like and she never wanted Jerryn to know that, know what it was to judge yourself by someone else's standards, live by someone else's rules, not count yourself as .... mattering. Because he did matter this child of hers, he mattered more than anything. He was the one thing she'd done in her frelled up life with no mistakes, perfectly. And she meant to see that he had a life worthy of just how perfect she felt he was.  
  
She sighed; it twinged at her sometimes the guilt at having lost him for so long. Nine moens, it seemed such a short time and yet it had been enough to turn him from a screaming wrinkled ball of flesh into a sturdy little version of a person who looked at her solemnly and seemed to always know what was going on in her soul. She hated the time she had missed with him, and was always trying in some way to make up for it. It was futile she knew, what was gone was gone. But she tried anyway. Although John told her not to torture herself over it, sending him off in the first place had been her fault. She'd had no choice, she was a soldier not a nursemaid and had no family, What could she do? She was grateful that the Ex-Peacekeeper assassins had given her the opportunity to foster him instead of turning her out as they could have done. She hadn't known she'd grow attached to him so quickly, or that when the word came that contact she'd used to keep in touch with the adoptive family had been killed she would react the way she did. She'd almost gone mad with regret, if John hadn't found her soon after..., She paused and shook her head, best not think about that, it had all turned out in the end.  
  
The effort of sitting still was beginning to get to her so she got up slung Jerryn on her hip and began to walk around. Chorn had promised he'd tell her if something was wrong, promised he'd come back and get her if John was hurt, or things were bad. He'd promised... Aeryn paused and frowned. Now that she had time to think Chorn hadn't said anything at all. He'd just grabbed her by the arm when she'd jumped to her feet looked at her and she just... knew. He would take care of everything, she wasn't to worry, and he'd come back and get her when it was O.K. And she didn't understand how she knew what he meant, except Idris was a Seer and she'd once been dead. Maybe there was some latent connection to that world that Chorn had picked up on, maybe it was him playing with her mind, but she'd let him go on alone, because of the baby, and now she was wondering if it hadn't been a mistake.  
  
Just then a sound pulled Aeryn from her ruminations and she looked up and saw him coming towards her from the cave. Relief swept over her in a flood that made her knees buckle and was swiftly followed by an irrational rage that he'd left her waiting so long.  
  
"So you're back." She said when he reached her at last.  
  
He tilted his head and looked at her with something akin to amusement.  
  
"Direct as always baby, yes I am back."  
  
She took a step back from him set Jerryn down and resisted the urge to throw her arms around his neck and beg him never to scare her like that again. They both knew he would, and she probably would too. The trick was to get through these emotional scenes as calmly as you can.  
  
"What was all the yelling for? Is Idris all right? I would have come but there was Jerryn and Chorn said.."  
  
The rest of her sentence made it no further than the inside of his mouth and she felt her anger seep away with the familiar taste of his kiss.  
  
"She's alright," he said when he finally released her. "I didn't think she would be for awhile, but Chorn came and he helped and I think the two of them are going to be O.K. There's something more, but I'll tell you later, we really need to get out of here now."  
  
She searched his face and could tell he wasn't lying. "Alright. But one thing first. Did it work, did you find your father?"  
  
John's expression turned solemn and a little bit sad. "It did and I did."  
  
"Well?"  
  
He sighed. "He looked.... old, warn, life hasn't been kind to him. He was at Canaveral, the place I took off from when I got lost. He was hurting and blaming himself, just like I knew he would be. And he thought I was a dream so... I don't know how much good it did."  
  
Aeryn reached up and touched him lightly on the cheek. "He is like you then, he takes to much on himself. What did you tell him?"  
  
"Ah..I think I bungled it, there was so much to say, so little time, I hardly knew where to begin. But I told him that my being lost wasn't his fault, and that I had a life here and a purpose and he shouldn't worry about me. I told him that I wouldn't be coming back, there were things that were dangerous that were keeping me here. And I told him about you... showed you to him even, you and Jerryn."  
  
Aeryn looked a little uncomfortable. "And?"  
  
John laughed, "He didn't say much but I knew what the old dog was thinking. That you were a hard ass and sexy as hell and how'd my ugly mug get to be the lucky SOB that I am."  
  
"So you think he would have.... liked me?"  
  
"Of course he would have. You'd have been two old grunts exchanging war stories in no time. I'd have been left out in the cold."  
  
The thought pleased her though she couldn't say why, pleased and embarrassed her at the same time. "I'm glad."  
  
"Although," John continued, "I wish I could have shown him more of Jerryn. The look on his face.." he paused and shook his head, "I feel like I'm denying him his grandson."  
  
Aeryn began to pick up their few belongings and stuff them into her pack. "By denying him Jerryn you're saving both their lives. A fair trade,..."  
  
"Aeryn.."  
  
".. But a harsh one I know. All I can say is... He knows what kind of man you are John. And so therefore he knows what kind of man Jerryn will be. I think that will be enough, and it will make him proud."  
  
John stared at her for a microt. 'Whatever would I do without you?"  
  
She turned around and gave him a small smile. "You know very well how you do without me. Now get a move on."  
  
He laughed, "Yes man." Then his face turned sober again. "I told him Aeryn, about the wormholes."  
  
She froze, "What?"  
  
"No, not how to make them or use them. No I just... planted a seed. We'd fooled around with the notion DK and I back when we were in college. Just some drunken doodlings but the foundations were there. I know that now. I told him to give DK the research, I know dad still has it. I figure, lets leave it up to our old friend fate. The ancients gave me the keys to the universe but said I couldn't have it until I was ready. And I went through hell but that day finally came."  
  
"And didn't it end up causing more harm than good" Aeryn asked coldly.  
  
John shrugged. "Ask me after we've defeated the Scarens. But that's not the point. The technology is there Aeryn and it can be used for good and Earth... has to move on, evolve, figure some of the things I've learned out here out. If it doesn't then someday when some other life form finds them... What hope will they have? I just gave them the map Aeryn; it's up to them to figure out the road here. And if they do and someday...." He stopped and looked down at the ground and swallowed hard. "Well the future is fluid, just like Idris said."  
  
And she stared at him hard then, this man who had changed her life in so many ways. Made her more, given her love, taught her what it was to know joy and to grieve. And her hart ached for what he was, and what he was giving up and what he had still yet to do for a people that weren't his.  
  
And then the ache went away. He had made the choice with both eyes open and it was the right one just as hers had been when she decided to give herself to him again. And they would move on from this place and get back to Moya. And he would be all right; they all would for as long as fate let them live.  
  
"John?" She asked him her voice filled with certainty. "Are we finished here then?"  
  
And he looked up at her and the sadness left his face and was replaced by a simple kind of joy. He picked up Jerryn and ran a finger gently down the side of her face.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good, then we'd better get home."  
  
"Yes, we'd better get home." 


End file.
